Unravelled
by SeleneSoulwar
Summary: Ensnared in a cracked, distorted vision of the world with no memories save for the bloodlust of an unknown, demonic voice, Zexion finds himself with the Organization against him, and Demyx attempting to collect the shards of his sanity. Zemyx, yaoi, gore.
1. Incinerated

Author's Note: Once in a while, I get an idea that freaks me out and entices me at the same time to write it, even when I burr Author's Note: Once in a while, I get an idea that freaks me out and entices me at the same time to write it, even when I burry it in the back of my head. Well, here it is, with my relatively new fandom. XD One of those incredibly sick plotbunnies that struck me one night during brainstorming and would not leave me alone, despite my numerous threats and heavy school assignments.  
So, there it is, after a pretty short 'childbirth' of about...seven hours?  
Broken down in two days XXD  
Zexion is a truly fascinating character, yet the one I could mostly picture driven easily to insanity.  
The latter is one of my biggest muses, however disturbing, but she and me have a close relationship...(smirks)  
I'm sorry if I disturbed anyone with this You're welcome to flame me.

This is my very first Kingdom hearts fanfic, so please be critical XD And since I haven't played the game, I apologize if anyone is OOC or events are not completely correct.

My first and biggest favourite is 411/MarluxiaVexen coupling (expect more in the future), but 69/Zemyx is one I also adore C: Enormous thanks you to my darling Emmy (writename: xxcupidxstuntxx here) for her input and her wonderful fanfic '50 Words' as inspiration and…hell, for getting me into KH in the first place. XXD Love you, babe Disclaimer: _Zexion, Demyx, Vexen, Ansem, Saix, and Xemnas belong to Squeenix/Disney. I'm just playing with them for my own sadistic purposes._ Pairing: _Zexion x Demyx_ Warning: Contains moderate blood/gore. swearing, violence, insanity and mentions of shonen ai (love between men). --

It was a question, he assumed, all of them had wondered about at least once.

When the livings whose souls are whole spend countless seconds inventing fanciful philosophies offering an explanation of where they came from, that particular trail of thought is immediately cut short for a newcomer in the World That Never was once they are clad in the uniformly black cloak, the hood pulling their faces and their questions in the shadows and at bay.

Of course, curiosity with all its feline grace and steely stubborn determination is always present in the new neophytes – especially the younger ones with strong beliefs, strings to humanity not yet severed.

But time, like always, always wore them down with its stainless steel sheen.

When one's existence is like one of a leaf caught in the violent autumn thunderstorms, tossed between branches and landscapes the wind takes fancy to, occasionally torn or completely shredded by obstacles, one learns not to question the intention behind the orders they receive.

And within time, it becomes a routine, doubt replaced by a sense of disinterest.

A Nobody's life was anything but stable.

And it was both easier to exist and cope living in a state of blissful denial and lack of knowledge.

However, among the blurred edges, there were a number of stable hinges in a Nobody's life.

Their mission and individual desires nursed with completing Kingdom Hearts in the near future, dreams that nudged their spirits into continuing their perilous journeys.

Their memories of who they used to be, strong surges of supposedly non-existent emotions, strands of events that linked them to their past and anchored the remains of their humanity close to them.

And the ever-present question of what would happen to them once – no, not once, _if_ - they die.

It was a taboo they had never enjoyed talking about, and if the matter somehow did get dragged up, they would hastily drop it, like a morphine-glazed dagger, afraid to give into the temptation to slice through their skin and taste the nectar of the forbidden.

Because however curious they all were of what would happen to them once the fatal blow was delivered, they also equally dreaded the consequences that would come seconds after the new-found discovery.

Death.

However many books he had read on the nature, however cynicism he always employed when discussing the subject, however many experiments he had assisted Vexen (and previously Ansem) with based on the matter, Zexion's idea of the topic was still not as clear as he desired it to be.

As if cast in a smoky shell, clouded by its uniqueness one could never replicate in life to study – only its hungry, all-consuming eyes glimpsing out of its hideout with vicious possessiveness.

He had no doubt that death would be very different to those in the Organization.

But the schemer assumed that like to all those leading temporary existences, it would bring them peace too.

"_You think too much, Zexy." A comforting voice murmured, hands wounding around his waist, a simple display of affection, gentle but persistent persuasion to stop burdening his tired mind with more information and join the intruder in sharing a well-deserved night of rest._

"_There's more to-" _

"_It can wait. Books don't need sleep. But you, although highly above the rest of us commoners, are made of organic material, and therefore require sufficient sleep."_

"…" _a blink of utter disbelief. "What encyclopedia have you just swallowed, Demyx?"_

"…_I'm reading over your shoulder…" the nocturne admitted sheepishly, gloved finger pointing to a thick, yellowed book next to the schemer's elbow._

_Rolling his eyes, the slate-haired male pushed his thick rimmed glasses higher up his nose, trying to ignore the soft nuzzle to the side of his cheek. "I've been up for a long time before."_

"_And didn't manage to get out of bed for three days straight." The brunette finished the sentence, kissing his cheek. "We'll find out eventually, right?"_

"…_but then…it won't matter, will it?" Zexion murmured after a while, thumb absentmindedly leafing through the remainder of the book he had been reading._

"_Of course it will." The nocturne replied, gently but firmly plucking the book from the other's hands and setting it down on the table. "Whatever it is, it will bring us peace and rest, won't it?"_

"…_I suppose…" he admitted after a few minutes of internal debate, earning a triumphant grin from the brunette behind him._

"_There you go! Mystery solved, now come and sleep, Zexy."_

"…_honestly, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"_

"_I promise I'll stop if you come now."_

"_And blackmailing me too!"_

"_One request at a time, Zexy!"_

"_Get back here!"_

Sweet, sweet denial.

Sugared belief, just like ones fed to the child in a silver spoon to soothe their fears of surrendering to sleep.

They aged, drifted from previous life to the next.

_But fairy stories and lies with good intentions are not only for toddlers._

"…you?" he chocked out, hands raised in a defensive stance, his whole being frozen at the revelation of the attacker, features still hidden by the thick shadows cast by the high arcs of the pillars.

The architecture was perfect for anyone with dark intentions to hide in the shadows, unnoticed – as was the whole operation of Castle Oblivion.

Perfect for someone inside the Organization to wound their way into, carrying the seeds of rebellion and infiltration deep in the heart of the system, and sewing death among the ones whose shoulders the plan was supported on.

Himself very much included on the guest list, the silky red ribbon tightening around his throat with clipped precision, making his shaking figure all the more appealing to present to the saliva-drenched jaws of the predator.

White teeth flashed in the low light, the only evidence of the sly smirk that covered his attacker's face. The smugness radiating through the darkness, gloved hand raised forwards, thumb poised on the middle finger, ready to send the schemer's body into his burning end.

Blue eyes behind slate locks widened. Nerves screaming for his own hands to move, for him to summon his weapon, to cast an illusion.

To scream, to shout, to plead.

_To do something. Anything. _

Anything to prolong the moment of introduction to the hungry smirk of the Grim Reaper he encountered in his nightmares.

The cold, cruel whisper murmuring in his ear, the bony hand clutching at the empty space inside his chest.

_We meet yet again, little one._

No. Please no.

"_I've been waiting for you, Ienzo."_

The events that followed were blurred, unfolding in the depths of his inner eye like a roll of film, the warning edge of pain's fangs nicking at his conscience before his body caught up with the events.

Slamming into his chest with the ferocity of an avalanche, he fought back his scream as the liquid fire erupted inside him, spreading further within seconds, ensnaring and devouring his senses.

Dropping down on his knees, hands clutched in his hair, dignity and pride too incinerated in the inner inferno. His pained scream of disbelief mixed with his attacker's low laugh of pure amusement, his own ears not recognizing his own voice, blocked out by the roar of the flames devouring him.

Breathing hard, the agonised sounds slowly died down to dampened, pained whimpers as the burning figure curled up, eyes rolling to the back of his head, a single thought flashing through his frayed mind before darkness overtook him.

_Whatever I encounter next…whatever happens now…it can't be worse then dying. _

Sugared lies.

Belief shattered.

_For you, little one, faith did not even allow the rest in death._

For a short time, he had began to believe what he had assumed was true. The darkness was calm, still, almost soothing. Like a caring mother soothing a fevered child, it caressed his weary mind, drawing sorrows into non-existence.

Then, suddenly, the soft hands and the manicured nails sprouted into razor-sharp talons, sinking into his relaxed mind with vicious hunger.

Pain tearing at the new wounds yet again, his voice to hoarse, soul to weary to even manage a whimper of protest.

He flinched at the breath on his cheek, reeking of rotting sins and mistakes, fangs glistening with a red sheen that was no doubt his own blood.

"Fragile." It whispered with malice. "You do not simply break, you _shatter._ Oh, oh, oh so _fascinating_." A rough tongue flickered over his cheek with such hunger and ferocity the schemer was sure it a few layers of skin were peeled off in the process. "We're going to get along _so_ well. I can just see."

Before he could question what the other was implying, those claws were sinking in his back, pushing him off the stable stand and sending him hurtling in the swirling unknown below, its harpy-like shrieks drowning his own screeches.

"Number Six?"

Forehead creased with effort before azure eyes, clouded with medication and the aftermath of the events, fluttered open.

Zexion's frown, irritated by the absence of the soothing darkness and the unnecessary presence of painful light, deepened when the fuzzy outline of the male before him. Gaze lingered on the deep cobalt hair, the piercing amber eyes and the strange scar running between his eyes, blinking.

He felt a strange sensation in his throat, as if the smirking monster who threw him back to consciousness was nestling itself deeper within him, razor tail swishing with lush satisfaction.

His gaze shifted back to the other when he heard a polite cough.

A scrape of nails and a hungry purr.

_Feed me, pet. I'm hungry. This should do perfectly._

A strange sense of giddiness erupted in him, causing his bruised lips to pull into a smirk, the movement alien to his muscles. Hands clenched in the sheets, as if trying their strength, nails scraping across the cotton blanket.

He felt as if with the flames, his eyes too have been burnt over with some sort of strange filter, causing his vision of the world to change drastically.

The black and whites melted down into an enormous puddle of grey, streaked with the flamboyant red stains of bloodied sins.

He ha absolutely no idea of where he was, or who the other male was and what he wanted. His lips might have been moving, but his smooth words meant nothing to the schemer.

…_Zexion…_

The other seemed to be repeating that word quite often…accompanied by the phrase 'Number Six'…

Meaningless labels, who they were addressed to was not his concern.

His sole concern was to devour and destroy, and to satisfy the purring, hungry, wanton mistress inside him, who was urging him to feed her sickening desires, to indulge her in sin and fulfil his own bottled-up desires.

Because if the world was burning, it was only fair the schemer tried to quench the hungry flames and feed their passions with the brilliant, crimson vial of life itself.

The shock plastered over the bluenette's face alone was enough to make him laugh, voice hollow and tainted with malice, only getting louder and more satisfied as nails sunk into flesh, delicate, spongy tissue tore under his touch, and the shrill scream of pure agony as the other tried to desperately shake him off.

However, his movements were full of control and hesitating, as if he was afraid to hurt the schemer, which made him snort.

Why would he be concerned about someone he just met?

The other's idiocy suited him just fine.

_Lips dripping with blood, talons stained with torn innocence, she growled in animalistic pleasure, wrapping her tail around his boneless, slim figure._

"_Well done, pet…" she cooed, her thick scent, laced with blood tickling his sensitive nostrils. "See? I told you…we are going to get along just fine."_

_With a smirk he has grown accustomed to by now, he leaned into her touch obediently._

"_Yes…" he whispered. "Yes."_

Footsteps softly echoed through the hushed stone corridor, the sturdy soles of the boots struggling to keep any form of noise down to a minimum. The aura of breaking a firm rule hung around him, nervousness evident in his eyes and jerky movements.

Like a child forbidden to visit the one he held close to his naïve heart by his worried parents, sneaking out in the middle of the night for a forbidden encounter.

A gloved hand pushed the heavy oak door open, swallowing before slipping inside.

The moon shone through the barred window, lighting the stone floor in bleached stripes, bony, ivory sheen glistening like precisely arranged funeral props.

The only indicator that there was another person in the room was the heavy breathing from the shadowed corner, accompanied by occasional dark chuckles and soft rattles of metal.

Demyx's hands trembled as he shut the door, taking a hesitating step forwards. All warnings rang in his ear, Xemnas' voice firm and shaking with suppressed anger. The image of Saix's mutilated face after the schemer had attacked him…

_It can't be. _

"…Zexion?" his timid, almost petrified voice, drenched with foolish hope, rang out in the silence, adrenalin bitter on his tongue.

The breathing hitched in the darkness before a soft, irritated growl soon following.

"…why does everyone…keep calling me that?" it whispered, metallic chinks accompanying his words, indicating an attempt a movement. "It's getting really irritating."

The nocturne's mouth went dry at the utter sadism and maliciousness that radiated off his lover's voice, making him sound completely alien.

Cautiously, he approached the corner, startled cyan meeting fractious azure.

"…Zexion?" he whispered again, voice cracking at the sight of the thick chains, padded with leather, clipped tightly around the schemer's lithe body, hands securely bound behind his back, a thick collar fastened around his neck.

Like some wild, untameable beast that needed to be restrained for everyone's safety, including the brainless brute's.

But what broke his composure were Zexion's eyes.

Cold.

Hard.

Empty.

Like a frozen diamond, not a single flicker of recognition running across its icy perfection at the water mage.

A snort was the sole reaction from the slate-haired boy, lips pulled in a maniacal grin. "You're like a bunch of parrots. Zexion this, Zexion that. Number Six. Schemer." He rattled off the various names he was once known by, voice reeking of contempt. The chain on his ankles slithered as he moved his feet, shaking his head. "When will it get through your thick skulls them I am _not_ one of you pathetically cowering bastards?" The mere thought alone disgusted him, the monster in his chest spitting and hissing in contempt.

Cocking his head so his matted slate locks weren't hanging over his eyes, the bound male finally took note of the other's queer behaviour.

Those who bothered 'visiting' him always seemed to have a clear and rather loud purpose.

"Have you come to stuff food down my throat?" he shot the question at the trembling nocturne, whose frame slowly sunk to his knees.

The oiled croon of the inner demon reassured him.

_Calm down, he seems rather meek. Besides, who are we to deny prey who offers himself freely? _

Zexion's annoyance faded into a frown as the other crawled closer, eyes glistening with silent tears, the cyan orbs glazed over with unsaid heart-wrenching pain.

His confusion only grew when a pair of arms wrapped around him tightly, a face buried in his shoulder. Moistness seeped through his thin shirt as the other trembled, grip tightening to the point the other was finding it hard to breathe.

"What are you doing?" he squirmed, snarling a little when the brunette just clung tighter. "Who the hell are you?!"

The shaking worsened, as did the damp feeling on his shoulder.

"…you can't have…you can't have…" the nocturne wept in a cracked voice, eyes searching the other's burnt-out orbs - and collapsing back onto a trembling heap when he found nothing but steely insanity, the realization hitting him hard and leaving him shattered, clinging at the restrained form of Zexion in desperation.

His empty shell.

The reminder of the reason he had to wait until he regained his heart and could love him with his entire being.

The cruel smirk of fate, reminding him that fairy stories were just a glossy cover to lure you in a false sense of security, one that was shattered in seconds.

And perhaps the cruellest proof Demyx ever needed to reassure him he did have a heart – one he now carried in pieces.

His howl of pain rose louder, mingling with the cruel and stark amusement drew from the chained figure, the flash of his canines reflecting the pearly traces of the nocturne's tears. And as his fingers clenched, attempting to hold what remained of the schemer intact, a broken whispered promise that never reached the other's ears was made.

_I will fix what needs to be fixed, Zexion…I will make you come back._

This might grow itself out into a small series C: So please tell me what you thought of it! :D And thanks for reading!


	2. Harsh Awakening

_Author's Note:_

_Well…_

_Heh, not much to say, really, except bow down, crawl on my knees and beg for forgiveness on how long it has taken to update this._

_I assure you, it's been in the works since October._

_And it's grown and multiplied and mutated…so I had to cut this chapter in half._

_I really hope you enjoy it though C: It's gone and taken its own life now from the timid little oneshot._

**Special thanks to my lovely reviewers:**

_CaCoPhOnY Of ScReAmS_: Thank you very much – most definitely will be continuing (as you can see :P)

It is a rather sad concept…I tend to be very mean to my characters…but fair, in the end. I hope you enjoy the rest of this story ^^

_LiteraryMirage:_ Oh, pesky typos – I have read through and hopefully will manage to weed them out ^^;

You're too kind C: Thank you very much – I am glad the pace was well timed ^^

Zexion has cracked, but that's far from the end of his troubles by his lovely inner demon – and of course, Demyx. XD

_agent-to-the-rescue:_ Thank you! *grins widely* I am! Hope you stick around, nnd hope you find the rest of the series just as intriguing C:

_Dancing Flurry:_ Gosh, fangirling? Whoo! XD You're so kind! I shall not disappoint then, hopefully! ^^

And of course, xcupidxstuntx for getting me into the wonderful world of KH and being an inspiration with our RPs and her wonderful quirky self. Love ya, Emmy. 3

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't owe the characters. Just the storyline and Zexion's inner demon. Kingdom Hearts belongs to Square Enix_

_**Pairing:**__ Zexion x Demyx (Main), Marluxia x Vexen, Xemnas x Saix _

_**Warning:**__ Contains moderate blood/gore. Strong language, violence, insanity and mentions of shonen ai (love between men). _

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_Pet. Pet. Wake up._  
Squirming in discomfort, the schemer burrowed his nose further in the warm fabric bracing his knees, unwilling to uncurl from the much-suffered for position. It was surprisingly difficult to find a decently comfortable position when one's hands were twisted behind his back, cold steel suffocating the feeling in his wrists, thick leather collar curling around his neck like an insistent amphibian.

Clearly, that was one predicament his captors had not thought of.  
Then again, judging by that silver-haired male's expression who was the last person he encountered before being dragged down to the dungeon, Zexion was sure that his comfort in sleeping – or rather, comfort at all - was the very least on the stranger's mind.

_Pet._ the deep feline voice growled again, laced with slight irritation, claws scraping warningly against the back of his mind when he made no signs of obeying her. _Pet, wake up __**now**__ ._  
_Come on…_ he moaned internally, drowsily shifting again, swallowing the excess copper-tinted saliva in his mouth. _Are you hungry again? I just damn fed you yesterday…let me be…_  
The growling grew stronger, waves of anger washing over his half-conscious reverie, apparently displeased at her container's haughty manner, one he would never consider using when in full consciousness of his fractured mind.

Then again, Zexion was never known to be a morning person, sane or not.

Much to his relief, the irritation dampened slightly before a ragged breath cut across his slipping conscience, much to his annoyance. He was just about to snap a comment about how her prediction of them getting along well is currently under heavy sabotage, courtesy of her constant insistence and channelling of bloodlust - before she smoothly cut his impending rant in two.  
_That brat is here again._  
Pale azure eyes snapped open at once, vision immediately flooding with cyan tinted with a hint of jade before a soft yelp broke the silence, vision clearing as their owner stumbled backwards, expression spelling pure shock.  
Snorting, cocking his head back with a small, graceful motion to flip his matted fringe out of his eyes, the schemer raised an eyebrow at the other's figure, who was slowly pushing himself back to a sitting position, snatching his gaze away swiftly with an embarrassed cough.  
"I'm sorry…didn't know you were awake, I-"  
"You." The slate-haired male stated blankly, a tint of annoyance staining his otherwise monotone voice. "…_again_."  
This caused the brunette to flinch slightly, voice fading into an incoherent murmur, fingers smoothing messy, rebellious locks behind his ear, eyes intently observing the rough surface of the floor.  
Groaning at the slow realization he wasn't going to get the chance to surrender to the unseen melody of sleep anytime soon, the schemer pushed himself into a similar position, grunting as his bandaged, bound hands were nicked along the wall.  
Goddamit, if he ever got his hands on the architect who designed this hellhole, he was going to die a slow, agonizing death…  
Preferably after his flesh was raw and devoid of any skin whatsoever, courtesy of chains and the jagged exterior of the walls…

A soft, playful mewl distracted him from that trail of thought, a small tinge of childish eagerness igniting in his chest.  
_That sounds deliciously promising, pet. _the deep voice purred, her enthusiasm and tinge of hunger washing over him again. _Can we try that?_  
His lips twitched with slight amusement, unconsciously licking his lips.  
_Calm down. I have no idea where to find said particular person, and if you hadn't noticed, I'm chained….  
__**We're**__ chained._ she hissed with unexpected sharpness, making the schemer reel back in slight disbelief, blinking. That was the last thing he had expected as a reply – or a reason to get…upset about.  
_And we're going to break out of them, no matter what these old fools might attempt._  
Swallowing, Zexion closed his eyes briefly, not entirely sure whether to be flattered by the use of 'we' or to be disturbed – possibly frightened.  
Another predicament that made his head throb.  
Why, oh why so early in the morning?  
He distracted himself from dealing with it straightaway, trying to shut out the swirling emotions radiating from his core meanwhile, grudgingly ignoring the fact on how they mixed with his own, almost to the brink of indistinguishable.  
But those weren't his feelings.  
They simply _weren't_.  
_Keep your bloodlust to yourself…_he groaned tiredly, trying to barricade the viciousness away with difficulty.  
She was stubborn, that much was apparent.  
_My bloodlust?_ her voice was quick to reply with a snort, the pulsing urge intensifying within a heartbeat, fusing his sensitive nose with rich, unfamiliar scent.  
It was heavy, sweet with a tangy edge, and was simply _mouth-watering_.  
It took every scrap of self control the schemer had not to start salivating at the delicious promise of this fresh new treat, snarl held at bay.  
Even when he realized with a start the source of the scent was the Nocturne himself, sitting less then a foot away from him.  
Eyes opened in shock, blatantly staring in shock at the brunette's small frame, eyebrows raised, only snapping back when he heard that infuriating chuckle.  
_My bloodlust indeed._, the forked tongue clicked, dry and sarcastic glee apparent as she observed the reaction with satisfaction. _You share my bloodlust so wholeheartedly…it's such a pleasure to know you're not hiding and constricting me away anymore.._  
Growling, he forced his eyes closed again, pushing the thoughts forcefully out of his mind. _Keep them to yourself!_ he snarled internally. _You're a damn parasite, using my body as some sort of a feeding ground…I will feed you when I get the chance, so shut your mouth if you wish to continue to exist!_  
Panting softly, he opened his eyes, glaring at his bound feet, mouth open in a small snarl, ready to strike out at the unseen voice with venom if she dared threatening him.

Instead, all he got was a low, amused growl, stretched out as the 'parasite' began to chuckle.  
_Why do you still insist on rocking yourself into denial, pet?_ she asked, mocking voice steeled by a hint of seriousness.  
_There is no denial!_ the schemer shot back, growling a little louder this time. _I don't know where you came from, but I won't allow you to take control of me!_  
Silence met his words before the amused grunts exploded into uninhibited laughter, the owner's husky voice downright hysterical.  
"What are you laughing about?!" the schemer snapped, irritation seeping off his hunched features, making the nocturne hesitatingly approaching him jump once again, snatching his hand back close to his body. Touching the schemer now didn't seem like such a good idea, after all…  
It took the other quite a while to get a hold on herself enough to muffle her laughter into snorts and chuckles, attempts made all the more difficult by the schemer's apparent fury, sending her into another fit of giggles.  
_…I have cracked and now my head is invaded by a psychotic pre-teen girl…_ Zexion remarked dryly, rolling his eyes and opting for the safer path of simply waiting for…whoever she was to control her fancies.  
Suffocating most of his anger as much as he could, the schemer breathed through his nose at a steady pace, trying to block out the voice's chuckles until they faded to a quiet, amused murmur.  
_…are you quite done being hysterical now?_ he channelled his thoughts condescendingly, earning yet another, although quite hoarse chuckle.  
_Oh, oh, oh…how I love your strong-headedness. _she purred, sending small spurs of joy across the schemer's conscience, causing him to shiver in uncomfortable confusion. _Your very essence, your very core is simply dripping with sweet, stubborn denial._ She paused, settling more comfortably again, much to Zexion's displeasure. That feeling inside his chest was really not necessary…  
_You are so much more entertaining then I first assumed you to be._  
_Quit speaking in cryptic code and cackling like an old hag!_ the slate-haired male ground his teeth, irritation bubbling up to the surface once again.  
_Is one not allowed to express her amusement at present situation?_ came the smug answer.  
Biting his tongue, the schemer forced himself to indulge in thought and logic, trying to pry at any weak openings she might have left behind to explain this ridiculous charade.  
_…whatever illusion this is…do not presume you can fool me for long…demon._ he replied slowly, allowing the venom to seep deep in his husky inner voice, growling softly as his eyes flashed with masked annoyance and murderous intent.  
To both his relief and dismay, the sole response he got was a snort before the amusement and excess bloodlust began to dampen down from his conscience.

_Like you've been doing anything but fooling yourself, child._

Curling herself up tighter, her voice dulled to a low murmur, leaving the schemer alone with his thoughts.  
Swallowing, shaking his head as cold sweat suddenly seemed to cover his back and forehead, Zexion let out the breath he was unconsciously holding, shivering.

"…Zexy?"

_…oh dear holy fucking Oblivion…_

"What?" he heaved an impatient sigh, tilting his head so his visible eye caught the other's anxious and slightly concerned gaze. "For the love of – one of you shuts up, _finally_shuts up, and the other one immediately starts straight after! Can't you use the scrap of intelligence I sincerely hope you might be in possession of located in your head to evaluate the situation and just _damn fuck off and let me sleep?!_"  
He knew he was being unreasonable and no doubt, if he could, he would have felt embarrassed at loosing his composure like this but honestly - his nerves were frayed and tattered, he was sleep-deprived, that uncontrollable, persistent voice was mocking him relentlessly and bombarding his senses with overriding urges and emotions – not to mention his joints and wounds still ached with vengeance whenever he moved, the drugs obviously loosing their effect.

And now _this_.

If he wasn't chained, the brunette would have lost both his eyes, tongue, and hopefully his ability to form coherent words in this lifetime _long_ ago…

_Smooth, little one._ a cynical dry voice murmured. _Real smooth._  
"SHUT UP!" he screeched, head snapping violently to the side with a loud snarl, missing the nocturne's hesitantly outstretched hand by inches.  
Yelping, Demyx threw himself back against the opposite wall, cradling his hand, the sudden horror and seeds of fear unmasked in his eyes as he watched the panting schemer, thrashing around in the chains' hold, ordering some unseen person to shut her mouth in that horrible, scratchy murderous tone…

Triggering the faint scrap of memory upon glimpsing Saix when in his Berserker form, Demyx scrambled to his feet hastily, swallowing, inching along the wall, flinching when Zexion raised his head slowly.  
Saliva slowly dripping down his chin, azure orbs darkened to onyx with unmasked contempt – as if the nocturne represented everything that was wrong in this twisted dimension of existence, as if he was the sole cause of every problem in his cracked reality.  
"Ze-"  
"Get. Out."  
"But-"  
_"NOW!_  
Calloused fingers slipping on the heavy handle, Demyx fought down the nausea and sorrow threatening to spill from his throat, nodding.  
"…I'll see you later then." He murmured, pushing the thick mahogany door open, head bowed, posture like of a broken puppet.  
_Oh honestly…_  
"How many times do I have to tell you I _don't want to see you?!_" a hysteric screech bid him farewell as the door slowly creaked shut behind him. "Spare me your presence and the effort of telling you to fuck off continuously, you hear me?!"  
The nocturne paused for a second, cocking his head slowly. The fuming male glimpsed the barest fraction of a moistened eye, almost seeping desperation before the door clicked shut, muffling his indignant screams to the rest of the Castle – sealing his voice into the stone cell of solitariness, words drowning and absorbed by the cruel barriers.

Snarling again, he spat out venomously before twisting sharply in the chains' hold, grunting when all the action resulted was a sharp flare of pain from his bruised wrists. Cursing under his breath, he shuffled unwillingly until to took the pressure off his arms, tugging on the collar, grunting softly as the tender streak was irritated. Damn whoever chained him up…they sure knew their fucking torture methods alright…  
_Are you so sure it's this wise to act in such cold manner towards him?_ the demon murmured, a cautious tint to her voice as Zexion continued to glare at the now closed door, scowling as his world was once again narrowed down to the damp four walls._He is by far the best chance we have in setting us free…_  
"I don't require or desire _any_ aid from such a pathetic _imbecile_ who obviously has nothing better to do then aggravate me and pretend there is a link with us that I'm not aware of and he _is_."  
_Perhaps he does, pet._ she admitted, hoarse and hushed voice laced with loathing at being forced to even bring up the topic for consideration. _The person who was here before our existence must have-_.  
_"Desist."_ he snarled immediately, causing her to grumble but trail off, leaving whatever she wanted to warn him about unsaid.  
One thing that had been gnawing away in the back of his mind was the troubling question of the still unknown location – and the disturbing anonymity of his existence.

Although he didn't recognize the names he was identified with by his captors, he had no alternative personnel to contradict them with.  
No name, no number of identification…and no past save for blurry flashes of excruciating pain, a snap of fingers…his own hoarse screams…and the velvety promise of the parasite.

As if he was a shed shell of another being, shrugged off and left behind, a page torn from the midst of a story and thrust into another universe abruptly.

It was…irritating the most. Most certainly distracting and disturbing.  
Something he didn't want to deal with on the top of everything right now.

Let philosophical debates rest till sleepless nights of insomnia and unquenchable curiosity. All he wanted now was a moment of peace to gather himself

_It's something to consider, and you know that._ she suddenly murmured again, shuffling slightly, causing his breath to hitch faintly. _I know it's unpleasant, but we have to consider it…it's important._  
_It's nothing._ he shook his head, eyes flashing with irritation, flicking his head, as if trying to chase away the buzzing, insignificant factor of annoyance.  
_Whoever this…Zexion was…he's dead now. And however heartbreaking this might be to any member of this damned…organization is none of my concern._  
Chuckling darkly, she curled up tighter, sending a soft wave of drowsiness across his bruised limbs. _Well, aren't you the compassionate one, pet._  
Shaking his head before lowering his head again to nestle between his knees again, he snorted lightly. _Somehow…I doubt I used to be beforehand…_  
_You never know, little one, you never know._  
Smiling wryly, the slate-hared male closed his eyes, more then willing to embrace the return of the wonderfully numbing sensation through his body, the room blissfully silent once more. Paying no heed to the muffled noises of the growing activity in the castle seeping from the cracks in the corners of the door – it was solely the present and its temporary comfort that mattered…  
A scrape of nails.  
_…especially if you continue sticking your head in the sand like some brainless ostrich…_  
"Oh for the love of - _Shut up already!!"_"

The silence that draped over him was both welcoming and furiously chilling as he walked down the shaded corridors, gloved hands tucked deep in his pockets, still clenched. Although his eyes were open, his consciousness seemed to slip away, feet moving solely on instinct, the path engraved into his feet, almost reflex-like from previous dozen times of walking down the same route.  
Kingdom Hearts, he was thankful. Although he would have been equally thankful for a sufficient distraction.  
Eyes scrunching shut when the shaded dusk was dissolved harshly by sudden white brilliance, the Nocturne realized he had walked into the meeting room.  
Footsteps slowing down until the soles of his boots scraped on the enormous symbol of the organization, curving along the paving blocks of the pristine corridor, Demyx raised his head, letting out the breath he didn't realize he was holding since he exited the schemer's new residence.  
Hands idly rolling the small metal studs attached to the collar of his cloak, his gaze fixed on the schemer's chair, abandoned for the last two meetings in a row…

_And most likely to be empty from here on…_

No, no, _no_. He couldn't think like that.  
Not when everyone else had given up on him already…  
Shaking his head, he glanced up at the colossal seating, expression darkening as unbiddingly, the last session came to mind.  
_  
"This simply cannot be tolerated."  
Xemnas' deep baritone rang our through the unusually silent and tense room, shaking ever so slightly with underlying fury. One glance at his auburn eyes, barely narrow slits, confirmed the fact the schemer in subject was in fact much safer locked away – out of the Superior's sight and rage.  
The room was hushed, the silence accompanied by an alien tenseness, almost crackling the chilled air with tension.  
Demyx was painfully aware yet oblivious of his surroundings and the suffocating fusion of emotions – oh, the damn irony in that expression – around him – the confusion on the just-returned Xaldin and Luxord's face, the clinical, carefully controlled diplomacy on the Chilly Academic's features as he wrung his bony hands, eyes carefully downcast, blonde hair hiding the betraying flickers through his moss-green orbs, gaze identical to the Silent Hero's grim, diplomatic reverie. Marluxia chose to look expectant, although his regular glances to the elder members and Demyx gave away his uneasiness.  
However, the Nocturne could not glance up at the two empty seats next to Lexaeus and Axel without his throat tightening to the point he had difficulty breathing, hands clenching among the folds of his robe, shoulders stiffening as he tried focusing on Xemnas' speech.  
"Never had I expected disobedience and…unpredictability from Six of all people…I have no idea what caused for his…__condition__…sanity…to deteriorate to this level in such an unexpected and ridiculous pace…" he paused a second to murmur something under his breath, causing Xigbar to cough hastily in obvious attempt to further drown his Superior and Vexen to narrow his eyes, before continuing in a much quieter voice.  
"However, as unfortunate it is, it does not change the fact Six has attempted to assassinate a fellow comrade, without any provocation whatsoever. Seven's vision is permanently damaged and he has been horrifically mutilated in…a rather…disturbing way." His words rang out in the silence, hollow and chilled, leaving the ones who hadn't paid a visit to the basements yet with no restraints in picturing the Divider's features – and shudder in horror.  
"One of the founding members or not, Zexion deserves a punishment for his crime." Xemnas sighed with tone of absolution, resting his arms along the seat, tapping a nail on the smooth marble. "…and to avoid any possible chances of something similar ever taking place, I think obliteration is the most logical sol-"  
__**"NO!"**__ the Nocturne's horrified cry cut through the other's impending judgement before Demyx could stop himself, eyes wide and horrified, complexion paling further as the silver-haired male lowered his narrowed gaze to meet his, promising nothing positive._

Oh, brilliant. Running head-first into the smouldering jaws of the enraged beast who had his treasure spoilt by a reckless explorer, too blind to even reason with the intruder or himself.  
…really, really damn typical, actually…

"…I beg your pardon, Nine?" came the hissed reply after the shock wore off – all too soon for the brunette whose words have just reached his own ears.  
"I…I…uh…"  
"Not only do you interrupt me, you choose to directly disobey me as well?!"  
"B-"  
"I always knew you were less then competent when it came to academic comprehension, but I entrusted you were at least capable of knowing the basics of common respect towards your elders…"  
"Superior, please!" Demyx cried out, ignoring the rather blatant and stinging remark about his intellect, swallowing hastily, head bowed to show the late respect and to avoid those furiously blazing eyes of the other, fearing they will burn holes in his skin. "I-isn't o…obliteration a little…a little too harsh?" he managed to stutter, swallowing again, mouth drying at an alarming pace. "I mean…of course, it's horrible what happened to Sa-Seven…it really is…but Zexion was attacked too! He was perfectly…normal…and stable…it's not like he did it consciously! Or on purpose! Saix-Seven and Zexion were friends – he would have never done it on purpose!" Slowly, cautiously raising his gaze to meet the other's for a second before whipping it away to the furthest corner hurriedly, Demyx took a deep, shaky breath, attempting to loosen his throat, not needing another noose when he was doing an excellent job of putting a metaphoric– if not a real one – around his neck right now.  
"How does this possibly relate to-"  
"If you'd be so kind, Superior…" Vexen cleared his throat softly, coughing a little as he pointedly shielded himself from the glare whipped on his figure upon speaking, "…Nine is correct in saying Six was obviously not in control or in the position to take full responsibility for the control of his actions."  
Xemnas continued glaring, gaze unmasked of his fury and loathing to take their point in consideration before he sighed, leaning back slightly, posture stiff.  
"Is that so? Do elaborate, Four."  
Demyx sighed internally, posture sagging as he, along with the rest of the members, turned their attention on the blonde Academic, who was once again wringing his hands, face hidden by his hair.  
"From the little examination he allowed me…I believe he's been through some sort of trauma. A shock. Something…something that caused him to…unravel, per se."  
Shaking the image of a ball of yarn away with a small scoff, Demyx glanced on the silver-haired leader, whose frown looked equally confused as his own.  
"…unravel?"  
"Mentally. Psychologically." The blonde placed his fingers together, gaze thoughtful. "…I suspect he's been harbouring…if I think back…he has shown a few classical signs of harbouring these sorts of symptoms…and things have been rather…hectic and unsettling of the late. It is very much possible that under the increasing pressure, with a large shock or trauma, he could have pushed and…cracked, per se."  
His words were met by silence and a mass of incomprehension – or the will not to comprehend, perhaps.

Unravelling? Cracking? Symptoms?

The words, clinical and cold, tasted foreign on the other's tongue, like steely surgical blades, slicing his worries to its bare atoms, flooding his already worried mind with the prospect of something even more terrible.  
He was snapped back to reality by a small, cynical snort.

"…okay, in English, are you trying to say Zexion has lost his marbles and gone insane?"  
Throwing the other an irritated look, Vexen dropped his hands, shaking the long sleeves to slide back to his elbows.  
"…yes, partially. Thank you for the crude contribution, Twelve, however unnecessary it was."  
"You're welcome, sweetie. We're not all scientific morons here, alright? You're just wasting your breath when you could just say it like this at the first go…"  
"Speak for yourself, hun." Xigbar threw her a wry smile, earning a rather obvious hand signal in return, spurring his smirk to widen, despite the situation.  
"It's not that simple!" the blonde raised his voice, suppressing a growl, resisting the urge to throw his hands up in frustration, knowing it would most likely just cause more amusement then draw the attention to his words. "You can't simply just label it 'insanity' and conclude that's _it__! If he was simply mentally unravelled, he would be hallucinating and acting out of character – muttering, laughing sardonically, shrieking – quote whichever classic symptom. But he's not – he's…he's __there__…his personality and all the common traits we associate with Zexion is there…"  
"But he doesn't remember anything." Lexaeus spoke quietly, shifting a little in his seat, taking over when the blonde seemed to run out of the previous angry steam, voice controlled and professional. "…he doesn't recall any of us, previous associations, his position, his name, nothing. I doubt he noticed the absence of his heart, his abilities or the previous goal he strived for. Furthermore, I doubt he recalls much from his life as a Somebody either."  
"…a very…thorough summary, Four, Five, Nine." Xemnas sighed when the tall brunette finished. "However, it also sums up rather neatly on how useless this little…transition has made the Cloaked Schemer. I do not have use for those Nobodies who cannot perform duties or aid us – and with the loss of his identity, he will cause nothing but trouble…as previously demonstrated…"  
"Of course he's not going to help us – we've got him chained like an animal!" Demyx pointed out, voice a little shaky but firm. "Why should he trust us? We've given him no reason to...to believe our claims that we were…we are him comrades…friends…"  
__Lovers.__  
"He's not given us any reason to treat him otherwise!" Xemnas retorted with a dangerous flash of his eyes. "In fact, he's given us a lot of reason to treat him the way we are!"  
"…Superior..." Marluxia suddenly spoke, clearing his throat before biting his lip thoughtfully. "…during our stay in Castle Oblivion, Six has indeed been…acting strange, if that's a way to put it. He has been starting to become unreliable and…messy in the duties…however…his illusion techniques are ones that cannot be replicated by any of the other members." He paused, crossing his legs with a casual motion, tracing the outline of his lip thoughtfully with a gloved finger. "…and…with all due respect, isn't his increased abilities and new-found…ferociousness a handy asset upon future battles? Of course, it is indeed extremely tragic and unfortunate we had to gain knowledge of this to the disadvantage of Seven…" he trailed off, leaving the unsaid fact Zexion, in his corrupted state, could harm the Berserker hanging in the air. Putting such a heavy scar on the powerful bluenette demanded unsaid respect, even if this situation.  
"…an uncontrollable mass of power is more of a burden then an asset to this Organization." The silver-haired leader snorted after a long pause, turning his gaze on the Divider's empty chair, shaking his head.  
"We can't give up on him just like this!" Demyx protested stubbornly, ignoring the warning look Marluxia shot him profusely. "…we didn't give up on Saix either when he couldn't control himself in his early days of becoming a Nobody – n-not even when he nearly tore off Xigg-Two's left arm…and l-look how well he can control himself now!"  
The retort died on the Superior's lips, frown deepening as he considered the other's words, sour, but offering no loophole…  
"We will further examine the problem." Vexen hurriedly cut in, voice quiet and toneless once more. "I am positive there's a sort of treatment method and medication that will allow Six to get more on grip with this new-found sickness."  
"…Very well." Xemnas murmured, voice hoarse and heavy after painstaking minutes of consideration, resting his head on his left palm. "…Four, Five, examine his condition as closely as you can and find a solution to this as soon as possible. Four, I want priority to be treating Seven's condition, however…and you better find an effective cure soon. The rest of you, treat him with caution and approach him only if necessary. Any unnecessary provocation will make any incident your own fault alone." The last point was addressed straight to the nauseous but determined-looking Nocturne, who managed to meet his gaze without flinching for a moment before lowering his head respectfully to murmur along with the rest.  
"Understood, Superior."  
_  
Last words echoing across his conscience, he shuddered softly, letting his hand drop beside him limply, biting his lip, wishing he had at least a fraction of the confidence that rushed through his veins and to his aid during the meeting.

…it hurt…so much to know how little respect and little hope the Superior had held for the schemer…  
Even when thought, the words sounded ironic. Since when were they supposed to feel anything of the cold dread, the sorrow, the disappointment?

Honestly, despite his abhorrence of the status and his firm disbelief in what they were taught upon joining the Organization, he felt like rushing to the Heartless that tore his heart away and demanding his money back, or for it to do its job properly…

However, it was the knowledge…or rather, the lack of knowledge was the aspect of this whole event that was bothering him the most, lacerating at the shreds of his nerves and mind.

…what had been Zexion…harbouring…from them that made him so…so fragile?  
From…from _him_?  
…if there had been such a serious problem…if Zexion _knew_…he must have, with his frightening intelligence…he must have suspected something…then why didn't he…  
The Nocturne paused, blinking a little.  
Do what?

Tell anyone?  
Ask for help?  
Even when the words were formed in his mind, it caused him to snort with humourless laughter, shaking his head. Asking for aid and talking about problems weren't even near the more common characteristics he would associate the schemer with. Not when he first met him – not even when he did get to know him from so much closer.  
If he needed proof, he had a wide array of fond memories to choose from…from the very first exchanged words about where indeed the kitchen was located through various mission discussions (or failures, although in his case, more of the latter…alright, not _failures_, just rather unexpected and unfortunate turns of events…), slowly bolder friendly exchanges…

No, Zexion was never the one to advertise when something went wrong. He never was one to seek out sympathy – if anything, he pushed it away, not needing anyone's pity or petty attempts at recreating a state of mind they could briefly recall from hazy memories of their Others.  
The words he was so skilled with became parts of the perfected masquerade of apathy and disinterest, his powers melting in his appearance with frightening casualness.  
Upon first discovering the schemer passed out on the library table, face sunken and weary with the grace of a freshly risen zombie, forearms sporting infected and bleeding wounds, Demyx often found himself asking whether the slate-haired male himself knew where the line between illusion and reality in his fabricated defences was anymore.

When one hid in shadows for too long, the contours separating black and white smudge, the bold contours washing out into a messy, abstract collage of charcoal and ink – beautiful, but essentially holding no logic, the next brush mark another unsure step into the blurred future.

But because he lived behind a mask of apathy, seeking refuge in the darkness did not mean Zexion didn't yearn for comfort.  
He didn't dare hope to seek understanding, simply because he was convinced no-one could see past his outer shell, past his illusions…therefore, how could they understand?

His conviction cracked upon the Nocturne's small, then more obvious hints that he could sense the Schemer's polite façade when claiming to be alright – he could still recall his stricken, borderline shocked expression, azure eyes wide and confused as they met the calm cyan gaze of the other's the wry, caring smile seeping in his vision as well as his voice…

_"You're not as hard to read as you think, Zexy."  
"Wh-…h…whe-how?"  
A chuckle. Then a small, cautious movement, eyes still fixed on the other's now rapidly blinking ones.  
"Any lexicon can be read…and contents understood…once one learns the language it's written in."  
_  
He thought he knew the other.  
Just…just a little better then the others.  
…a _lot_ better…  
But suddenly, the Academic's words rang in his ears, each scientific and precise word pricking him deeper and deeper with the steely realization he really was just as much in the dark as the others.  
Because he, unlike previously when Zexion was the subject of a much puzzled over debate, he couldn't see past the shadows he was enwrapped in, holding the solution in those pale, delicate hands.

Shrouded in illusion.

And the water mage couldn't…simply couldn't disperse it to see the other side.  
Mind wrapped up in the convincing outward lie that the Schemer really was alright…and had been since a couple of hours…a day…when…when…

The trembling worsening to visible shaking, the Nocturne didn't even attempt to stop himself from sinking down to the ground, the coolness of the hard marble biting at his skin viciously through the uniform, worsening the chilled sensation.  
The cold seeping up from his back to his chest, clutching at his dry throat in a reprimanding manner, the icy tendrils weaving their way through his frayed nerves to his mind and conscience. Frosty caress to the back of his mind, a low murmurs of spiked disapproval stabbing in his now exposed, lacerated core.  
_  
You left him on his own too.  
You couldn't see past the outer illusion that something was most definitely wrong._

You left him and allowed his hidden insanity to surface and tear him away.  
  
Hands entangling in light sandy hair, frustrated and broken voice muffled in the depths of his sleeves pressed against his mouth as his eyes squeezed shut, refusing to allow more moisture to seep down his cheeks, growling in frustration when he felt their warm, betraying presence on his skin.  
_  
Broken…tainted, cracked…  
Unravelled.  
_  
Was this something he could fix?  
_  
"Ya know, Demmy, I know ya always had this thing for picking up the most damn messed up book off the floor and demandin' that we fixed it up…I guess ya must've been the sort of kid who took every stay home off the streets. But…ya need t'know…you can't always fix everything. Sometimes, things have been grinded and tossed around so much that even though they look sealed on th'outside, they're barely held t'gether. And at those times, ya got to let it go and exist in its shell. Because I know ya mean well, but y'could just end up shattering it on accident – or crackin' yerself."  
_  
Honestly, that really was the best quote his mind could supply right now?

Moistened eyes opened for a brief second, catching the sight of a large crack across the otherwise pristine ceiling, web-like tendrils weaving their way across the plaster.  
Another bad omen.  
Another _subtle_ warning…  
But however much this unseen concern touched him, it was only water on duck's feathers of his utter stubborn determination.  
_  
Because when you'll wake up from this absurd, bloodstained dream, the transition through to reality cannot be torn through with mere fangs and claws.  
And I know you don't accept help from…from strangers._

Because that's what I have seemed to become to you now.  


Oh, damn it all…wretched, cold, heartless Kingdom Hearts, dammit all…

Author's Notes

_Comments, please? C: Reviews make an exhausted student happy and much more compelled to write ^^ _

_Update will be much faster this time, as I already have a good two thirds of the next chapter written. _

_Quick preview:_

"Because despite your…unfortunate…situation, I still expect you to pay the proper respect towards your Superiors."

"…my Superiors?" he echoed, smirk morphing into faked surprise. "I am sorry…but I fail to see how our ranks differ in such drastic levels."

_Danger!_ she hissed again, the heavy taste of fury weighing down on the tip of his tongue, unable to completely drown the sweet taste of victory at the other's growing anger.

_Don't be paranoid._

"…you're standing on extremely thin ice, Zexion." The other hissed in frosty tones, bending so they were on the same eye level, his scent heavy with the metallic tinges of power. "I still haven't forgotten the state of what you have put my second in command, who was doing his best to restore you to your health upon finding you in an appalling state, seconds from fading away." His breath fluttered across the other's cheeks, just as cold as his tone.

_Indeed. Xemnas darling makes his appearance, and lemme tell you, he was an absolute bitch to write. But fun all the same. C:_


	3. Problematique Discussions

_Author's Note:_

_Again, sorry for the slow rate of the updating. Not very pleased with my own pace, to be quite honest. But I hope to improve._

_Here it is – and wouldn you believe it, we're actually setting the plot in motion! Sort of…_

_This chapter contains pretty graphic non-con sexual situations. If you don't feel comfortable with it, please, skip this chapter._

_And excuse any…sloppiness? Been quite a while since I properly wrote anything of this sort._

**Special thanks to my lovely reviewers:**

_LiteraryMirage:_ Thank you so much for the lovely review! I am glad you enjoyed their interactions ^^

There's a lot more to the demon/'ect' (XD) then just exerting control. However, when you awaken with an extra voice in your head, I am guessing the first thing you're going to do is try and either gain or re-establish control.

Excuse me while I ramble on. XDD

No appearance from Demyx in this chapter, I'm afraid, but he'll most definitely come to face the disaster in the next one. Hope you enjoy ^^

_Dancing Flurry:_ You're too much, lovely. *hides behind the laptop screen to hide blushing* But all I can say is, thank you so much!! *sends tons of online hugs and an extra cookie* Hope you like the rest too!

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't owe the characters. Just the storyline and Zexion's inner demon. Kingdom Hearts belongs to Square Enix_

_**Pairing:**__ Zexion x Demyx (Main), Marluxia x Vexen, Xemnas x Saix _

_**Warning:**__ Contains moderate blood/gore. Strong language, violence,sexual contact and abuse, insanity and mentions of shonen ai (love between men). _

Chapter Three

_Pet…_

_I'm awake._ he murmured, thoughts laced with a good deal of heavy irritation at the possessive nickname. _And I thought I told you to quit calling m-_

_There's someone coming_.

Muscles involuntarily stiffening in his back, shoulders squaring as much as they could against the tight embrace of the chains as the schemer eased himself back into the curled position against the wall, coiled like a serpent ready to strike.

Well…as much as the damned restrictions allowed him anyways.

_What makes you so su-_

_Use your damn nose._ she hissed, unusual amount of venom seeping in her voice, restlessly clawing at his chest, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

_Stay put!_ he shot back, cringing as agitation and an indistinguishable mix of impending panic forceful protectiveness washed over him in short, powerful waves, leaving him once again gripping for control.

_I can't!_ she snapped, voice bordering on hysterical as she forced him to pay attention to the surroundings he'd rather ignore, nose filled with the dull, crisp scent of the stones, laced with his own scent and of the brunette's – a tangy, fresh, almost salty whiff – and among the cold stingy ones of the chains –

Pressed papers. Freshly ironed cotton. Heavy odour of leather – similar to the one his own body was clad it, but considerably cleaner and of higher quality – and…anger.

Darkness.

Good Lord he never believed in, this man practically _reeked_ of it.

Posture tightening, movements now willed by both of them, he suppressed another wince at her continued thrashing, the sudden surges of anger and emerging insistence to lash out as soon as the other entered his cell, the soft creaking of the insufficiently oiled hinges making him wince sharply.

Each fragment of sound like a shard of chipped glass, tearing at his eardrums.

The demon shrieked again, tearing at his brittle and stiff defences, urging him to do something _now_, while they had the chance and the element of luck at their side, when in the other's eyes they were just a weakened pile of drugged, chained bone and meat…

A pair of polished boots stopped right in front of him, the other's controlled breathing clear to the other's sensed, heightened with the parasite's tension.

_Danger._

Slowly, the slate-haired male raised his head, visible cobalt gaze finding a narrowed pair, the burning amber depths striking him despite the situation, a sudden possessive urge running through him.

He remembered all too well…the exhilaration when his nails sunk in the blue-haired stranger's eyes, the sadistic glee as the tissue tore – yet there was disappointment and loss, at his own recklessness at destroying something so beautiful and fragile.

Now, the maddening hunger somewhat satisfied, the urge to keep the jewel-like organs, carefully removed this time was oh-so-tempting…

_Pay attention!_ the demon shrieked, cutting the brief contemplation short, causing him to flinch and blink slightly, taken aback and somewhat confused.

_Are these desires not yours?_ he frowned, careful to keep his face somewhat blank, mouth tightly pressed shut.

She just forced the scents deeper into his awareness, much to the schemer's annoyance as he met the other's gaze again, his own expression blank, almost nonchalant – if not challenging.

"Six."

The other's voice was deep and demanding, tone cold and clipped with forced formality, barely contained contempt painfully obvious.

Zexion suppressed an irritated sigh before cocking his head slightly, blowing lightly at his long fringe.

"…last time I checked, there was only one of me." He replied, licking his dried lips, resisting the urge to smirk when the other's face twitched, eyes further narrowing.

"I don't think you're quite in the position to be so cocky, Number Six." He stated coldly, crossing his arms over his leather-clad chest, gaze hardening.

Instead of drawing back, the schemer leaned a little forwards, eyebrows knitting together, eyes fixed on the flowing ends of the leather cloak.

The same black cloak…huh, a much cleaner and less tattered one that he was wearing…

The supposed link or hint of unity just made him snort aloud before raising his chin again, allowing the smirk to slip in place.

"And why is that?"

The silver-haired male's hands balled into fists before he took another deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for a slip second.

"Because despite your…unfortunate…situation, I still expect you to pay the proper respect towards your Superiors."

"…my Superiors?" he echoed, smirk morphing into faked surprise. "I am sorry…but I fail to see how our ranks differ in such drastic levels."

_Danger!_ she hissed again, the heavy taste of fury weighing down on the tip of his tongue, unable to completely drown the sweet taste of victory at the other's growing anger.

_Don't be paranoid._

"…you're standing on extremely thin ice, Zexion." The other hissed in frosty tones, bending so they were on the same eye level, his scent heavy with the metallic tinges of power. "I still haven't forgotten the state of what you have put my second in command, who was doing his best to restore you to your health upon finding you in an appalling state, seconds from fading away." His breath fluttered across the other's cheeks, just as cold as his tone.

The schemer's face remained blank save for a single raised eyebrow, suggesting the effect intended had gone over his head completely and to waste.

"…forgive me if I am not as impressed by that as you so clearly expect me to be."

Another controlled intake of oxygen. Another twitch of a muscle.

"Do _not_ push it, Six."

"How can I? I am bound." Came the answer, accompanied by a hint of a smirk and a slight rattle of his chained wrists, the metallic clinking echoing through the silence with clipped precision.

Twitch.

Twitch.

Hiss of malice, like the almost inaudible evidence of a gas leak, spreading the foundations of a disaster thick and secure, waiting for the impending spark to set the whole thing alight…

And in the burning ginger eyes of the Superior, each syllable dripping from the schemer's mouth was a lit match – a glowing ember, provoking to set the impending anger threatening to tear him apart off.

"Do not presume that simply because of your status and history your actions will be overlooked-"

"Oh _please_…" Zexion scoffed, rolling his eyes in slight exasperation – hadn't the other already _said_ something along those lines about five times already? It was getting rather repetitive and taxing. "Don't tell me I happened to feed on some sort of humane pet of yours that you're so upset? Or rather…" he tipped his head back a little, smirking again. "…is that it? I mutilated the already scarred face of your little puppy? You have my most heartfelt apology, _Superior_ - especially since let me tell you, his blood wasn't exactly satisfying."

His internal chuckle drowned out her flinch and sudden stillness, ignoring the desperate clawing at his conscience that soon followed.

All too late.

The other's eyes flashed sharply as the schemer's careless words snapped the last thin threads of control Xemnas was forcing to impose upon himself –

and his vision was snapped to the side a second later when the Superior's hand collided with his cheek harshly.

His own gasp of pain sounded alien to his ears as he instantly whirled back to face his offender – only to find himself suddenly dangling in the other's grasp.

"Never speak of Saix that way again, you useless scum of non-existence." He hissed, hands tightening around the thick collar, further restricting any access to oxygen the schemer might have previously had, his sudden choking only encouraging him to grip tighter.

"What are you d-"

"Hush." The silver-haired male snarled, words dripping with such contempt that Zexion forced himself to bite back the indignant part of the sentence, struggling to breathe.

Nails sinking in the soft skin of his neck, the Superior snorted as he watched the other squirm in his grasp passively, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips as he watched the schemer's face take up a lighter shade of his hair as he struggled to breathe in his choking grip.

The smirk grew wider, revealing a hint of teeth, nails sinking deeper, earning a soft growl of pain from the struggling schemer.

It had become very apparent that Six seemed to have very much forgotten his place in the wake of the events.

Even when he had been his former self, both in possession of their much-sought organs and without, he always thought their youngest Elder embodied the sort of premature attitude that successfully pissed him off every damn time.

Zexion needed to be reminded and taught one lesson he would be sure not to forget for a very long time.

The schemer's head was still reeling from the lack of oxygen, too caught up in trying to loosen the other's grip on his throat to notice Xemnas' movements – only when he straightened up and rearranged his fingers to allow some air to pass through his windpipe – after all, permanent brain damage due to lack of oxygen really would have just ruined the fun – did the schemer realize his chains were unclipped.

Leaving the Superior free to lift him right off the ground and deliver yet another hard blow to his jaw.

Spluttering, he masked a wince at the loud crack, turning his head to spit the coppery tinted saliva from his mouth. Lips opened, indignant question poised on the tip of his tongue – only to be snapped in two with yet another harsh blow.

Biting back any indication of pain save for muffled splutters as his insistent questions were drowned in painful cracks, the illusionist aimed a sharp kick at the silver-haired male's shins, thrashing around in his grasp, snarling as his teeth came within mere inches to wounding this horrifically strong stranger…

_Stop, stop, STOP!_ she suddenly shrieked, trying to override his rising anger and frustration at the (in his opinion) unreasonable and damned _painful_ treatment, voice growing in insistency and pitch as he chose to ignore her. _Stop it! Don't fight him, you idiot, stop, stop, STOP!_

_I am not one to surrender, you invading hag, shut the fuck up!_

_This is suicidal!_ she snarled hysterically, a sudden jolt of frustration rushing through his anger and pain-clouded conscience.

_Get __out__, I can't concentrate with all your-_

_You have already lost this battle, foolish child! Discard your dignity and pride and hang onto your damn life! Onto our damn body!_

With a loud snarl, the schemer grunted again before promptly sinking his teeth in the other's fist as it came close to his mouth to brush over the darkening bruise across his jaw.

Words were not enough to describe the sweet, sweet taste of satisfaction that flooded both his tongue and his ears as the older male cried out in pained rage, the agony in his voice almost as delicious as the blood flooding his mouth…

The moment, unfortunately, was short lived as Xemnas ripped his hand away from the slate-haired male's grip and flung him against the wall with as much frustrated force as he could muster.

Crying out as pain exploded in his already lacerated back, the throbbing of his head worsening as the solid surface gave it a hard, rough kiss upon unwanted contact, adding to the aggravating shrieking from the parasite. His vision swam as he struggled to regain his balance and to retaliate – pick himself up, throw himself on the silver-haired bastard and claw his damned eyes out, to tear his throat open, muffle that righteous, smug voice of his for eternity…

A rough kick to his sides cut his thoughts short again, causing him to grunt and curl to his side to try and shield himself from further attacks. His contorted, furious expression met amused and expectant as he managed to raise his head, his snarl dying in his throat as the other bent down and grabbed him by the throat once again.

"I am sick and tired of your pompous and snarky attitude, Six."

Again, those numerals. Numbers. Meaningless labels, as if the other was a stack of living meat on the shelf…a misbehaving cattle among the flock, walking out of the ordered line.

A faceless, nameless stain – an imperfection under the Leader's harsh scrutiny.

A yank of a hand, a flick of a wrist, and the coughing schemer's feet were once again dangling above the ground, widened eyes staring into the swirling mass of Darkness suddenly opened besides them, chilly tendrils caressing his face with frightening familiarity as the older male pulled them through into an unknown room.

Hissing as the scenery took a sudden and unmerciful shift from his comfortable shadowed realm to stark white and brightly lit interior of whitewashed walls and hard, cold edges.

Clamping his eyes shut to spare his sensitive retinas some of the damage, Zexion forced himself to grow still and ignore the other's ominous, dark chuckle.

After closing the portal, Xemnas unceremoniously tossed the schemer over his desk, twisting the other's hands behind his back, one hand holding his wrists together in a secure hold, while the other ran along his spine, smirk widening as the schemer tried and failed to suppress his angry, pained noises.

Of course. That uncomfortable position and untreated wounds _do_ indeed take their toll on one's body.

Releasing the other's hands long enough to free the squirming schemer of his tattered and torn cloak and carelessly push it on the ground, Xemnas surveyed the other's bruised and lacerated back, hurriedly bandaged and cleaned days ago, with a soft smirk.

Oh, Four and Five really just _couldn'_t follow simple orders now, could they? He should have known they would try and patch the little bitch up.

Nail pressing in the infected edge of a half-healed wound, he was forced to admire the simple beauty of the other's battered figure – ebony skin, with intricate, marble-like patterns of visible veins, infected tissue, damp with fresh blood as they got torn open in the recent tussle.

In his eyes, the other was simply wordlessly _begging_ to be mutilated.

Hand settling its grip back on his wrists, the intent to break them without hesitation should the other struggle extremely clear, he curled his free hand lazily around the handle of his just materialized weapon, choosing his preferred spot – just below the other's left shoulder blade.

Twisting in the other's grasp with a protesting growl, the schemer hissed angry obscenities, anger further fuelled as the other's hold didn't loosen the slightest against his struggles. Despite his best efforts to writhe out of the other's iron grasp, the hand over his wrists remained painfully tight.

Growling, he swallowed the heavy taste in his mouth, ignoring the new tang among the sweet metallic of blood - something much heavier and colder.

It was fear.

Helplessness.

_Vulnerability._

"Let go this ins-"

"Oh, stay put." The other's voice, bored but tainted with sadistic anticipation cut through his words, re-arranging his grip on both the schemer and his weapon before lashing out without warning, grin widening as the crimson whip made a beautifully loud and painful contact with the schemer's pale skin.

Caught off guard, Zexion couldn't bite back his shriek as pain sharply dug into his back, burning and stinging with unexpected ferocity.

_What the bloody fuck was-_

"I can't even begin to phrase how incredibly disappointed I am with you, Six." Xemnas's impassive voice rang through as he lifted his hand again, the searing heat landing on his back again, smirk widening as the ivory skin turned the most beautiful shade of red, flushed and irritated, blood glistening along the existing wounds, just torn further by the brutal assault.

Oh, there were going to be bruises and marks.

Burnt as deep as possible.

"Your fieldwork, save for a few exceptional developments in the lab, have been less then satisfactory in the past. Not to mention your attitude certainly leaves something to be desired…strutting around like you owned the place…"

Blows falling into a regular, ruthless rhythm, covering his back with angry red welts, occasionally moving down to his torso - honeyed voice worming its way through the schemer's involuntary whimpers and cries.

"You need to be reminded you are simply a subordinate. And quite an easily replaceable one at that too."

Oh how the tables turn in the matter of seconds.

In the flash of an eye, the prey becomes predator – the chained tiger forced in the corner, its own antiques turned right against him.

Biting down hard on his lower lip to muffle himself, he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking oxygen through his nose at a panicked pace as the Superior showed no signs of stopping.

If anything, his blows were becoming more cruel and precise, picking up on the sensitive spots – his bruised ribs, near the back of his neck…obviously wanting to draw more of his breathless, louder reactions…

Zexion growled softly, shaking his head, choking out a hoarse cry as a blunt nail ran along a bleeding slash none-too-gently, dipping in the wound to smear the blood over his skin.

…_Dear God whom I don't believe in…it…Gods…_

Stings.

Hurts. Hurts so damned much…

Burns.

…_flames. Flames everywhere. Burning, incinerating, robbing him of his last precious breath of oxygen, the hot, dry hands choking the very last scraps of non-existence out of his wretched shell…_

"_It's nothing personal."_

_Gravity claimed his body. Slammed him on his knees. Doubled him over in agony…_

_Burning. Burning…_

Xemnas smirked as the other's breath hitched, muscles tightening along his back, making his bones and welts all the more apparent. Dispelling his weapon, he briefly glanced to the thankfully locked door of his office before moving to tug sharply at Zexion's pants – causing the schemer to stiffen suddenly.

_No. No. No. God, no…_

He wouldn't.

He _wouldn't_ sink to such disgusting and immoral levels as to actually-

A sharp snap of elastic, a rustle of fabric and the sound of a zipper being hurriedly tugged down was all the warning he got before the garments beneath his waist were torn away.

Hissing as the cold air made him shiver, Zexion clawed at the restraining hand as much as he could, breath starting to race as he continued his fruitless struggle, spitting out threats and

Xemnas merely snorted and tugged at the Schemer's trousers until they pooled around his ankles before running a gloved hand over the exposed flesh, groping the other shamelessly.

"You've been breaking many, many rules, Six. And you do know what happens to naughty little boys, don't you?"

Stiffening in indignation at the demeaning title and the unwanted touch of the other, the Schemer gave one last tug at the restrains before a sharp smack across his rear rendered him still.

"They get punished."

Before the other could react, he slapped the other's ass again, smirking at the disbelieving shriek it bought from the slate-haired male. He traced the bright red handprint left behind on the pale skin before repeating his motions, greatly amused by both the muffled whimpers of pain and how wonderfully easy it was to mark the other.

Zexion was further pushed down on the table, legs spread to allow easier access, writhing and breathless protests ignored.

"They get taught a lesson."

His cheeks burnt with humiliation, teeth once again sinking deep in his bruised lips to muffle his whimpers as the Superior mercilessly continued, palm falling down with a stinging blow, each harder and more malicious then the previous.

"A lesson to remind them just what happens when they start getting arrogant and stepping out of line."

The blows stopped abruptly, causing Zexion to slump in his hold, quivering with pain, doing his damnest to suppress his whimpers…curses…screams…

_When is this nightmare going to be over?_

A hand brushed against the curve of his ass, earning a pained cry before Zexion felt the other release his wrists.

"On your hands and knees, boy." The Superior's voice murmured in his ear, patting him patronizingly on the back of his thigh, smile soft and dangerous. "Now."

Struggling to make his numb and shaking limbs obey, the Schemer shuffled into the ordered position rather gracelessly, closing his thighs tightly, head hung as he presented the Superior with his bruised body.

He knew what was coming. Even in his disillusioned state, he was perfectly aware of the older male's intentions.

But that didn't still didn't stop him from letting a choked cry escape him as a gloved finger slipped past the tight ring of muscle, deep inside his body.

Arching his back, the Schemer tightened around the invading digit in vain attempt to stop him from breaching any deeper, shaking at the burn of the dry friction.

_Relax, you stupid boy._

Blinking and choking back a disgusted cry as he felt the other press his finger deeper inside him, the unlubricated leather making the unwanted penetration worse, Zexion stilled at the quiet voice in the back of his head.

_D…demon?_ he thought hastily, not knowing what else to call her, swallowing the bile rising in his throat as he was hurriedly stretched, wincing as another finger slipped inside him.

She snorted bitterly but didn't answer anything, only hissing slightly as Xemnas twisted his hand suddenly. A sharp sting of pain and stinging as blood trickled over his gloved hand and down his thighs made the bluenette whimper again, struggling anew.

_Do something!_ he screamed silently, nails digging into the hard surface of the desk as a third finger stretched him painfully wide, free hand lifting the schemer's hips higher, into a more convenient angle.

_Please, do something!_

_What do you want me to do?_ she snarled, voice strained, flickers of desperation and stifled annoyance washing over him for a second.

Rustle of leather. Clicks of a belt being unbuckled. Fingers sliding out of him before the gloves were shed and dropped on the ground unceremoniously.

_The same thing when I woke up!_

The other's warm body pressed against his, knee nudging his now shaking thighs apart, fisting a hand in his hair roughly and yanking his head back, causing him to cry out again, wide azure eyes forced to the ceiling.

_Our body…oh, beg your pardon. Your body was pumped full of drugs to ensure you survived. There were masses of extra chemical energy I could convert…I was hungry…_ she breathed, recoiling deeper inside him, voice fading as Xemnas' nails dug in the tender skin of his scalp, tip of his erection pressing against his entrance.

_You can't be serious. _he thought desperately, wincing as the grip on his hair tightened and the other's warm breath washed over his cheek.

…_I'm sorry._

"I do hope the message is crystal clear, Ienzo."

And with a sudden roll of his hips, he slammed deep inside the other.

A scream tore through the Schemer as white-hot pain flared through his battered body, muscles contracting and making him lurch forwards, gripping the table feebly. He was barely given a few seconds to readjust before Xemnas moved again, sliding further inside the Schemer, his quiet groan of satisfaction at the tight heat and the reaction causing his nauseated stomach to give another lurch.

_Get out of me._

The elder male shifted into a more comfortable position before thrusting inside the now shaking Schemer again, quickly falling into a fast, demanding rhythm, hands pinning the other down firmly.

The previous pain was nothing compared to this – like a white hot knife, pounding deep inside him, muscles tearing, nails digging in his hips, raking at his skin, hurting him, _marking_ him…

_HurtinghurtinghurtingOhDarknessithurtsomuch…_

He could practically see the shards of his remaining, tattered pride scatter across the room, breaking into millions of pieces with every hard, rough thrust of the smirking male.

Nails scraping across the desk in meaningless struggle and an attempt to cling onto something stable, Zexion's breathless whimpers slowly turned into choked screams as Xemnas' movements turned erratic, feeling his climax approach. The blood seeped from his torn muscles, lubricating the other's movements somewhat, stinging the most viciously.

_Get out of me. Stay away. God. God, make it stop…_

Time seemed to stop. Minutes melted into the next, seconds only indicated with every sharp movement, the feeling of being torn into two every time, punctuated by a breathless cry, a trickle of blood…

Through the crimson haze of agony and the constant reminded to keep breathing - _can't black out, cannot leave myself unconscious to him, breathe, breathe, breathe_…- he heard a muffled groan. Nails sunk into his hips again before the other's body stiffened against his own and shuddered – followed by a horrible burning, _so damned deep inside…_

Zexion's arms gave out exactly six seconds after the silver-haired male had sated himself, collapsing into a shaking, breathlessly whimpering heap. He flinched when the other pulled out of him, biting back a sharp and attempting to curl himself into a protective ball.

Behind him, Xemnas readjusted his clothing with slow, causal movements, not even attempting to keep the satisfied smirk off his features.

A tug of a belt, a zip of a robe, retrival of gloves, a hand through his hair.

Superior once more.

Superior all the way through.

Always have been. Always will be.

Lips twitching into a distasteful grimace as he surveyed the mess on his desk, he summoned a few Dusks to take care of the remedial cleaning task before grasping the wounded Schemer by the scruff of his neck and opening a portal.

Biting back a pained wail, Zexion didn't fight his grasp, eyes blinking blearily as the excruciatingly bright room faded to black, almost relieved to see his familiar cell once more.

His temporary relief lasted until the taller male unceremoniously dumped him against the wall, smirk widening as the cold stones welcomed the Schemer back with a painful smack.

There was something to be said about diplomatic resolve over violent obliteration.

Not only you had a chance to resolve the matter without being forced to search for additional members, you could also settle personal matters and ensure future loyalty.

All in one, simple step.

And it was definitely more effective then any rank number, any document – any form of empty bond they, Nobodies shared.

It was traditional, good old fashioned branding and claiming the subject.

Burning the message deep inside his core.

In Zexion's skin, in his body and into the very depths of his depraved, disturbed brain – to know his damned place and never ever forget just where he belonged…

"I do sincerely hope our discussion has been successful and we can resolve this matter without any future problems."

The crumpled body shook in the most beautifully broken way possible.

"However – do not hesitate to seek me out with any further complaints you might have." The dark-skinned male's skin turned for the malicious as he stepped back into the portal, letting the tendrils of the Darkness wrap around him.

"I am most certain we can find a way to discuss matters again."

And with that, he was transported to an unknown destination, leaving the Schemer with his broken, muffled, unheard cries, clutching the frayed fabric of his coat, knuckled turning white with the effort.

And for once, the silence that settled over him – outer, inner, _everywhere _- was less then welcome.

TBC…

Author's Notes

_Comments, please? C: Reviews make an exhausted student happy and much more compelled to write ^^ _

_I have exams very very soon, so I cannot promise anything…however, please, give me some feedback. It speeds me up C:_


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